“I had to wait for the abortion because they said that I was only two weeks past my period and that I had to wait two weeks before I could get scheduled. Before leaving, I asked two questions: Will it hurt? and Was it a baby?
Her reply to my first question was that I would feel pressure and then something that felt like menstrual cramps. Then, she drew a picture of a uterus and placed a circle inside and said it was no bigger than a quarter. *It was like a tumor* – easy enough to be removed with a little discomfort.
While in the hands of the abortionist, I received no medication for pain, no medication for anxiety, nor was I anesthetized. I did not have enough money for these “extras.” Some girls were given low doses of Valium for their nerves. That cost money too, more than what I had. I paid for the operation right up front – CASH ONLY, please.
The pain I felt during the abortion was *the most excruciating pain I have ever experienced in my life.* I could feel the baby being ripped from my womb. I yelled in pain and the nurse told me to relax – that I was tightening up – and to stay quiet. What empathy they feel for you before they take your money.
Everyone was so pleasant in the beginning. But, once the sale is closed, money in hand, *you’re just another person lying on the assembly line waiting to have their product of conception slaughtered.*
When the abortion was over, I felt humiliated, embarrassed, guilty, ashamed and violated all at the same time. I quickly justified my actions and my feelings. I suppressed those feelings, deep down, for ten years.
Three days after the abortion, I awoke in a pool of blood. I had a temperature of 103, abdominal pain, nausea and a migraine. I was rushed to the hospital where I received an emergency D&C. The doctor said I had blood clots. I was sent home with antibiotics.
Shortly after this horrifying experience, I started to experiment with drugs. Soon, I was doing them on a regular basis. I would fall into deep depressions. I lost job after job. There were times when
I would not get out of bed for weeks at a tine. I did not eat. *I went from 108 to 89 pounds. I could not sleep and, when I would finally fall asleep, I would suffer from nightmares. Drugs were the only release and escape from the feelings I could not deal with.”
National Stopp News, February 1992, p. 5. Found here.Share on Facebook